With infinite pains he got his head and shoulders into the small recess and for the first time looked into the room.

Pritchard was sitting almost in the middle of the apartment; his arms seemed to be bound to the chair and his legs were tied together.

A few yards away, Elizabeth, her fur coat laid aside, was lounging back in an easy-chair, her dress all glittering with sequins, a curious light in her eyes, a cruel smile parting her lips.

By her side--sitting, in fact, on the arm of her chair--was Crease, his long, worn face paler, even, than usual; his lips curled in a smile of cynical amusement.

Major Post was there, carefully dressed as though he had been attending some social gathering, standing upon the hearth-rug with his coat-tails under his arms.